Skyscraper
by LoveStoryFanatic
Summary: Dean's life took a turn for the worst. His coping skills start to worry those around him. What happens when Sam starts pushing a little too hard? How will Dean react to being pushed completely over the edge? How will his family cope with Dean's decisions? Eventual Destiel. Later possible tag change.
1. Suicidal Thoughts

**Disclaimer: I do not own SPN. Sorry.**

**Note: So...I was listening to a song earlier today and this idea just popped into my head. If you can guess the name of the song, a plus to you! Not that it would take much detective skills. Anywho, I'll get on to the story. I already have the outline laid out and know exactly what will be happening. I already have most of the next chapter done. I apologize for the shortness and I promise there will not be a chapter under 2k words because that's just not how I operate. I refuse to post anything under that limit. I strive for at least 4, but sometimes that just doesn't happen. Hope you like the story!**

**Chapter 1**

His fingers slid along the keys, punctuating the air with every note. He wasn't aware he had an audience. He was too wrapped up in the harmonies and melodies to pay attention to anything else. He gave everything he had into his songs, even if he didn't have anything left of himself to give.

He didn't have any of the lyrics done yet. He wasn't exactly sure what there was for him to say. All he had was one verse to go on. One verse to carry him through to the end. That was the million dollar question. Where did it end? When did it end? He knew he was being overly dramatic as they kept telling him, but his heart had been ripped from his chest and pummeled repeatedly. He figured he was due a bit of drama. Such as: what was the point to all of this anymore? Was his life worth living now that she was gone? Would his life end when he found the words to complete the song? Could he survive that long?

She had been everything to him. They had met so many years ago, falling in love almost instantly. He'd never believed in love at first sight until he'd met her. He didn't anymore. It had all been a lie. Had she ever really loved him or had it all been a lie from the beginning? He couldn't look at himself in the mirror anymore for fear of seeing a completely different person than the one he'd known all his life.

He knew he should sing a few sad songs, down a couple of bottles of whiskey, get laid, and then get over it. Move on to the next person. But how do you really do that? How do you just move past such a betrayal? How do you trust anyone ever again, let alone yourself.

These were questions he asked himself every day, every hour, every time he didn't have something to focus on. He asked himself what his life meant. He asked himself what his life was worth. The past seven years of his life had been a lie, in more ways than one. He'd lost so many people in his life at once that his heart constantly felt like it would give out on him, leaving him sprawling on the floor lifeless for someone to find.

"Dean, man, you gotta stop moping around here and do something with yourself. Jo tells me you hardly leave the house still. I know she's fully capable of taking care of the shop, but…you gotta do something with yourself."

Dean's fingers stilled. His eyes closing, squeezing shut. He heard the same rant every day for the past week. The first two weeks, they let him do his thing, hoping he'd come around on his own. When that hadn't been the case, the family had tried to do an intervention, but that hadn't worked too well. Dean had thrown around his usual excuses, refusing to listen to any of them. He knew they were only trying to help and he appreciated it, he did, but he just couldn't bring himself to back to the shop yet. After all, that's where he'd received the news that had devastated his entire world.

"I know this has been hard on you. I can't even imagine what you've gone through or if I would even handle it better, but…everyone's worried about you, man. It's not like you to just completely shut down like this. I know it's a lot to handle, but you don't have to handle it alone. We're all here for you, Dean. We just want to help."

"How can you help, Sam? Is there some magical button you can push to make it all go away? Do you have a time machine somewhere so I can go back and not meet her, somehow change what happened? Is there some drug I can take to erase what happened from my mind? No? Well, then you can't really help then, can you?"

Sam sighed. "Dean…Maybe if you got out of the house, go see some of your friends, go for a run, stop by the shop for a couple of hours, do some of the things you love to do, maybe it'll help."

"I am doing what I love. I'm writing a song, aren't I?"

Another sigh. "Dean, I've heard you working on that song for the past week. It's not like you to have this much trouble, especially not when it comes to lyrics. Usually, the lyrics are all written down and all you have to do is come up with the notes. I haven't heard a single word that goes with those notes."

Dean finally turned around on the piano bench and stared at his little brother. "I'm just off my game. The words will come to me. Besides, I have a verse done. I just don't want to add to it until I have more."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean. You've been repeating that melody for a week now with no words to accompany it. That's not the point though. The point is that you need to get out of the house and do something other than sit here and play the same chords over and over again. You're going to waste your life away sitting there. If you don't do something at the shop, you're going to lose it. Jo can't keep it running alone forever. Then you're going to lose the house and be out on the streets. What the hell are you going to do then, huh? Play an imaginary piano? Take it with you? You can't live like this, Dean! This isn't you!"

Dean stood, staring him down. "What the hell do you care, Sam? I didn't see you warning me about what was going on. I didn't see you trying to help me through it the first two weeks after it happened. Everyone steered clear of me for the first two weeks before suddenly trying to 'help'. Well, you know what? I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help. There's not a single person I trust anymore enough to help me. How can I trust anyone after that? I damn well know you wouldn't if it had happened to you. We both do. You would shut me out too. You would escape into your own little world too."

Sam's shoulders drooped the slightest bit. "Dean, I'm just trying-."

"To help. Yeah, I got that, Sam. You sure have been doing a bang up job of it lately. I'm done, Sam. I can't do it anymore. I'm sick of everything. I'm sick of being here. I'm sick of everyone tiptoeing around me. I'm sick of the betrayal. I'm sick of all of this. So everyone can go back to their lives and forget all of this happened, okay? You tell everyone to stop worrying about me because it won't matter anymore."

He grabbed his jacket and his keys and started towards the door. Sam whirled on him. "What the hell does that mean, Dean?! Killing yourself isn't the answer and you know that! What did you used to say? That killing yourself was the coward's way out? Look who's the coward now! That has never been who you are and you know it."

Dean shrugged off his words, but stopped before he shut the door behind him. He turned halfway towards his brother with a sad look in his eye. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I guess I'm not the man you wanted me to be."

The door clicked shut behind him. He slipped into the driver's seat of his impala, turned the key, and allowed himself a moments pleasure as his baby roared to life. He listened to her purr for a brief few seconds before slipping her into reverse, backing out of the driveway, and leaving his home for what he planned to be the last time. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam run out of the front door, yelling and waving his arms at him, trying to make him stop. He only pressed down harder on the gas, leaving his little brother behind with silent tears running down both of their faces.

**SPN**

Sam watched as the taillights of the impala disappeared from view. He couldn't believe what was happening. If Dean even knew what he had done for him…

He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed Jo's number. It only rang twice before her drawl came over the line.

"Hey, Sam, what's up? Any luck with Big Brother?"

A soft sob finally worked its way up his throat and out from under his self-control. "Jo…he's doing it. I never thought he would, but he is."

He could practically visualize her sitting up straighter, eyes widening to the size of saucers. "For real? Are you with him? What happened?"

"When I got to the house, he was playing the piano like he always does anymore. I listened for a while, but finally interrupted him. I tried to talk some sense into him, tell him he needed to get out of the house for a bit, but we got into an argument. He ended up grabbing his keys and leaving. He said he's sick of everything and to tell everyone to stop worrying about him, that it won't matter anymore."

"Oh my God…"

"Before he walked out the door, he turned back to me and said, 'I'm sorry. I guess I'm not the man you wanted me to be.' I chased after him, but he was already gone. He took the impala and left."

"Sam, we need to call the police. Have them send out some kind of APB for him or something, tell them he's a risk to himself. I don't care what the hell we tell them, but we need to have someone out there looking for him."

"Okay. You make the call. I'm headed your way."

"Okay, Sam. You drive carefully, okay? We don't need to lose two brothers tonight."

The entire way to the shop, Sam couldn't stop thinking about what he'd said to Dean. Maybe if he'd been gentler with his words or chosen different ones. Maybe if he'd pushed harder sooner or just let it go when Dean kept resisting. He'd only been trying to help his brother get over everything that had happened. It had been horrible, more than that. He couldn't possibly imagine how Dean was feeling. He didn't _want _to know how Dean was feeling. In all honestly, Dean was handling it better than he could have been. Or…_was _handling it better. He could have been spending all his time inside a whiskey bottle or at a strip club, running a risk of catching something, but all he'd done was sit at his piano for hours on end working on the same song repeatedly.

It had been like something inside of him had just snapped and he didn't have the energy to do anything besides play that damned piano. He was grateful his method of coping had been healthier than the alternatives, until now.

He wasn't entirely sure if Dean would go through with it or not. He'd never seen that look in his brother's eye before and he never wanted to see it again. The thought that he may never see his brother again _to _see that look in them brought on a fresh wave of tears sliding down his cheeks. He had never been the emotional type, never cried over anything besides when he got his heart broken or when he broke his arm in third grade. The thought of losing his brother forever scared him to no end. Dean was the only family he had left after everything that had happened. He couldn't lose him. He never wanted to lose him.

Pulling into the parking lot, Sam got out of his car and walked into the recording studio that Dean owned. He was a recording artist and one of the best. A lot of people came from great distances just to work with Dean. The past three weeks they'd had to settle with Jo, but a lot of their regular clients were getting upset with paying to have Dean record their albums and having to settle for someone else. Jo was great at it, but she wasn't Dean. They had others working their too, but it just wasn't the same.

Sam found her in Dean's office, talking on the phone with someone he presumed to be the police. She looked up and saw the tear tracks on his cheeks. He noticed the same on her own. They were all emotionally distraught over this turn in events. None of them had seen it coming.

She hung up the phone and ran to him, wrapping her arms around his waist. "They're sending out search teams to look for him. I gave them the plate number for the impala, so they're issuing an APB for it. They said they'd contact us if they find anything."

Sam nodded, wrapping his arms tighter around her. "Jo…what are we going to do?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, Sam. I don't know."

**What'd you think? New chapter up soon!**


	2. Letters to Home

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. See The CW.**

**Note: This chapter's up quicker than I thought. I made it longer than the last one. I'll get started on the next one now. Hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 2**

Dean pulled into a small town after driving for hours and hours. He'd been on the road for two days. He knew that Jo would have the police issue an APB out on him, so he wanted to get as far away as possible before he did anything.

He'd only stopped occasionally and that was for gas and to empty his bank account. He didn't want to use his card and allow the police to track him down. He almost hadn't emptied the account, thinking about leaving all his money to Sam and Jo, but something in the back of his mind had told him to take out the money. It had said that if he did do something stupid like kill himself, then when they found his body and the impala, they could give all the money to Sam then. It'd seemed like a reasonable plan, so he'd went with it.

He wasn't sure what he was going to do with himself so he pulled into a small bar near the outskirts of town. Walking inside, he found the place nearly deserted save for some bar flies he figured where usually there.

He took a seat on a stool and ordered a beer from the bartender. As he sipped it, he couldn't get Sam's words out of his head. _"Look who's the coward now!"_

His grip on the bottle tightened. Maybe he was a coward. Maybe he couldn't take it anymore. Maybe he couldn't live with himself for being tricked so easily and by so many people close to him. Hell, for all he knew, everyone in his life could have known about it and decided not to tell him.

A small part of him knew that he was being a big baby about everything, but it stung, badly. Learning the truth had ripped him apart. He hadn't known who to trust or even if he _could _trust anyone.

"You look like you could use some company."

Dean looked up into the eyes of the man who'd served him the beer. They were the brightest blue Dean had ever seen. They appeared to be kind, trusting, but so had hers.

"Don't think I'm much company at the moment."

The man shrugged lightly and made a small sweep of the bar. "You're more talkative than the rest of these fellows. All they do is sit there and stare into their shot glass or watch the tv without so much as uttering a word besides what type of alcohol they'd like next."

Dean chuckled darkly, knowing how they felt suddenly. "Can't say I blame them. They're probably looking for a way to escape their demons."

"And are you? Trying to escape your demons?"

Dean looked back up at him and shrugged. "Isn't that what most people go to a bar for?"

The man tilted his head the slightest bit. "You have a point. The trick is to not run from them forever. I know a thing or two about that, believe me."

"Who says I'm running?"

One of the man's eyebrows quirked half an inch up his forehead. "This is a pretty small town where just about everybody knows everybody. I've lived here for a couple of years now and I've never seen you before. It's not like this is a major stop on a highway that attracts a lot of tourists. It's an out of the way town you come across if you're on crumbling highways and back roads. Either you know someone who lives here and you're visiting them, or you're running from something and you somehow managed to wind up here. Now, if you were visiting someone, my best guess would be that you'd be with them and enjoying it instead of sitting here with that look on your face. So, my conclusion is that you're running from something. Now the real question is: what?"

Dean snorted. "You're good, I'll give you that."

The man resisted smirked, leaning forward on his elbows. "I'm Castiel."

Dean hesitated a long moment, wondering if he should give him his real name in case the cops happened to come looking for him. He figured he was in a town far enough out of the way that there would be no chance in hell they'd find him here. "Dean."

"I'd say it's nice to meet you, Dean, but you look like hell and it's obvious nothing good brought you here."

He grunted, taking a swig of his beer. "You could say that."

The man nodded. "How long you stayin'?"

Dean thought about it. It was a loaded question. The man had been innocent about it, but there was nothing innocent about that question, not in this case.

He settled for shrugging his shoulders. "Not long."

Something flashed in Castiel's eyes that Dean couldn't catch before it flicked out. He was staring Dean down hard, trying to get a feel for him. Usually Dean was pretty good about keeping eye contact, but he wasn't up to the challenge so he looked away, staring down at his beer bottle. He took another long sip, draining most of it.

"You know, small towns can be good for escaping demons. There's not a constant thrum that makes you feel like you're drowning. You can actually hear yourself think. And the people are pretty decent."

"I don't know if I'll be staying long enough to find out."

Castiel nodded, obviously thinking over his words before he said them. "I think you're a small town kind of guy. Or, the very least, could become one. Maybe all you need is a chance at a fresh start. Leave your old life behind for a while and live for you. It seems like it could do wonders for you."

Dean's eyes lifted to meet his. He thought over his words. Could it even be possible to start over? Get a new chance at life without the past pressing down at him, threatening to crush him.

"Maybe. Who knows."

It wasn't long before people starting coming into the bar, averting Castiel's attention away from Dean. It gave Dean a chance to think without being disturbed. Maybe the man was right. Maybe that's all he needed was a second chance. Maybe he could just leave his past in the past and move on, finish that song, meet some new people, find a job, find a life.

Suddenly, that's all he wanted. He wanted that second chance. The thought of taking the easy way out was still nudging at his mind, trying to get him to take that step, but so was the possibility that he could get a fresh start at everything. He could find an apartment, get a job, make new friends. He had enough money to last him a while without a job.

His mind flew back to Sam and the rest of his family back home. He knew they were worried sick about him. He'd had to turn his phone off and take the battery out so that they would stop calling and that way they couldn't track the gps in his phone. He knew he should let them know he was okay, but part of him wanted to make them suffer like he had done.

After a while of debating with himself, he reasoned that once he found a place and got settled, started a new life here, he would let them know he was okay. It would be right thing for him to do. They were his family after all, no matter what had happened. Sam meant the world to him, as did Jo, Ellen, and Bobby. He couldn't imagine hurting them to the point of letting them think he _might _be dead, but never know for sure. He couldn't do that to them.

He stayed for another hour, drinking another beer, before closing his tab and leaving the bar. He saw Castiel's eyes follow him as he walked away, but wasn't sure what to make of it. He seemed sincere and also concerned. What he couldn't understand was why he was concerned for a complete stranger.

**SPN**

"I'm going out of my mind. I have no idea if he's even _alive_. You'd think he would have called by now or come back…sent a text…_something._"

Jo sighed, running a hand through her messy hair. "You heard what the cops said. There's a good chance that…that he won't be coming back. He's been gone for four days, Sam. His phone is either off or he trashed it. Either he just needs some time to cool off and come to his senses, or…we may never see him again. I know that's hard to accept…It's hard for me to accept…but we _were_ really hard on him. I don't blame him, at all."

Sam whirled on her. "How can you say that?! He was moping around like a little kid, for Heaven's sake!"

She nodded, keeping calm. "I know that, but he had every right to be moping. Look at what had just happened to him. He had just lost three very important people in his life and not because they were suddenly killed in some freak accident. All three of them betrayed him. He had every right to act the way he did, especially after the way we acted. I'm not happy with what happened any more than you are. I love Dean just as much as you do and don't even try to say that I don't. He's my big brother too even if we aren't related. Remember what Bobby always says?"

Sam sighed, running a hand down his face. "Blood doesn't make family."

"Exactly. Now, let's stop and really think about this. This is Dean we're talking about, okay? I don't care how mopey and depressed he is…Do you really think he's capable of killing himself? Just running off somewhere where no one knows where he is and ending his life? Alone?"

Sam stared at her, thinking about his big brother. "Not until I saw the look in his eyes and heard what he had to say. After that? I really don't know. He apologized to me, Jo. He said he's not the man I want him to be. What the hell did he mean by that?"

Jo shrugged helplessly. "It sounds to me like he's disappointed in himself for not having caught it sooner, for letting himself be tricked by them. I don't blame him, I would be too. I'm not saying I blame him for not catching it, but…I'd be a wreck if I were in his shoes. I'd also have some pretty epic trust issues to work through."

Sam sat down on the couch, burying his face in his hands. "What worries me is how he handled it. He didn't drink his liver into failure. He didn't go out and have pointless sex or go to a strip club. He didn't snap everyone's head off every chance he got or bury himself so far deep in trouble he couldn't see daylight. He was silent. He barely talked. He buried himself in that song he was working on that he couldn't even come up with words for. That right there was weird. He can always come up with lyrics, no matter what's going on. I've never seen him struggle with words like that. It was unnerving. He just kept playing the same melody over and over again."

Jo nodded, thinking over Dean's behavior. "I haven't either. He always knows what to say. Maybe he's too focused on what happened to really concentrate, I don't know. Maybe one day we'll find out."

**SPN**

Dean grunted as he set down his end of the couch. Every day he'd been in the quiet little town, he'd gone to the bar. Less and less of it had been to actually get drunk and more of it had to do with the new friend he'd made: Castiel. After he'd finally found an apartment he liked, and basically squatted for a few days while he tracked down some furniture, he'd asked Cas to help him move everything in. Cas had accepted, of course, and even brought in some friends of his own to help.

Dean stood and wiped sweat from his forehead. "Well, all that's left to be brought up is the tv, the stand for it, a table, and a piano."

Cas was nodding along as Dean ticked off each item, but froze at the last one. His eyes widened. "A piano? We have to carry a piano up those stairs? You're kidding."

Dean smirked. "Nope. Don't worry though. It's not a grand piano. It's just a small console piano. Doesn't weigh all that much. As long as we have a spotter to make sure it doesn't tip over on us, we'll be good."

Cas sighed, flexing his sore muscles. "Okay, but I propose we take a short break before attempting that feat."

Dean smirked. "Deal. Let's go get the TV and the stand before we take it. Garth and Charlie can handle the table. Then we'll take the break. That way all we'll have left is the piano."

Cas nodded. "Sounds fair."

Everything had basically been delivered all at the same time that day so all of his furniture had been sitting on the sidewalk for the past couple of hours while they moved everything up into the apartment. Thankfully, Dean hadn't had to buy a fridge or stove, the apartment having come with them already, otherwise he didn't know how they would manage getting everything up the stairs. He could tell they were all as tired as he felt. He wasn't used to this much physical activity given he'd been a recording artist for the past few years. Granted, he worked out when he found the time, but it'd been quite a while since then.

They'd left a kid from Cas's apartment building with the furniture so no one walked away with anything, thinking it was all for free and not someone trying to move in. Dean had told all of them that once everything was moved in, he'd buy everyone something to eat as a way of thanking them for their help. When Cas had told him he'd asked a couple of friends to help, he was nervous about meeting them. He hadn't known what to expect.

When Garth had pulled up and opened his mouth, Dean hadn't known what to think. He'd glanced in Cas's way to see his eyes glistening with amusement. Once he started to really talk to Garth, he realized the guy was okay. He was a bit odd, but if that worked for him than what was his place to judge? Whatever got him through life, Dean supposed.

Now Charlie was another matter. From the very moment that Dean had met her, they had clicked. He was able to channel his inner nerd and geek out a bit while they talked. She was a seriously cool person. The more he talked to her, the more he found in common with her. He'd made a mental note to have her around more often.

Dean placed a hand on the TV and looked at the others. "Okay, I'll get the TV. I think Cas can handle that stand all on his own. If you two want to grab that table, that'd be great."

The group nodded and went for the items he'd suggested. He went up the stairs first, having been standing right next to his item. The tv was nothing special, but it worked and it had good quality. He'd already bought the DVD player and all the hookups he'd need. He wasn't going to get cable as he didn't watch TV enough for it.

It didn't take long to get everything up into the apartment and placed properly. Dean sank down on the couch, ready for that short break he'd allowed before they went back for the piano. "I think I could sleep for a week."

Cas chuckled, sitting down beside him. "I agree. I'm glad I have the day off tomorrow as well."

Dean nodded. He'd started a job at a local mechanics shop, having been taught everything he needed to know and then some about cars when he was growing up. His father had been a mechanic and had expected him to be one too, but he'd wanted to go into the music industry more, so that's what he'd done, until now. It'd made him chuckle a little when he'd gotten the job. His father would have been proud, not that he really cared what his father thought.

"What do we want to eat? Might as well order now that way it gets here by the time we get the piano up here."

Cas rested his head on the back of the couch, closing his eyes. "Pizza is fine with me."

Dean looked over at Garth and Charlie who were sitting on the loveseat he'd gotten. They both nodded, rattling off what kinds they liked. Dean nodded. "Okay, well, one of you is going to have to call because I don't know any pizza places around here yet, let alone their numbers."

Charlie pulled out her phone and dialed a number. She rattled off their order before stopping and looking at Dean. "Hey, Dean, what's your address again? I can't remember."

"266 East Lawrence street."

She repeated it into the phone before thanking them and hanging up. "Okay. It'll be here in half an hour. I suggest you two get a move on with that piano so we have plenty of time before it gets here."

Dean looked over at Cas who didn't seem to be too inclined to move. "You know, we can always do it later."

His eyes slid open and he lifted his head. "No, we can do it now. That way Ben can go home and stop sitting there on the sidewalk all afternoon. Let's get it over with and then we can rest some more."

"I like your reasoning, Cas."

Cas was halfway standing when he heard the nickname. He froze, falling back onto the couch. "Cas?"

Dean's eyes widened a fraction. "Yeah, uh, it's shorter than Castiel and easier to say. I've kind of been calling you that in my head since we met, but didn't know how you would feel about it so I kept my mouth shut. It kind of just slipped out. Sorry."

One of Cas's eyebrows rose and his lips turned into a smirk. "I am fine with the nickname, Dean. It just caught me by surprise because no one has ever given me a nickname before besides my brothers."

Dean nodded, pushing to his feet. "Alright then, Cas. Let's get a move on."

It had been nine days since Dean had last seen his brother. It'd been five since he'd given any conscious thought to ending his life. He immersed himself into his new life, his new apartment, new job, new friends. He didn't let himself think about Lisa or his parents. His mind frequently took him back to his brother and his family. He wondered how they were doing, how worried they were.

After Cas and the other left, Dean sat down and decided it was time to let his brother know how he was doing and that he was still alive.

He pulled out a notebook he'd picked up from the store, found a pen, and got to work.

_Dear Sammy,_

_I know you're worrying about me. I'm sorry I made you and the others worry so much. It was never my intention. I'm still alive and I'm not going to kill myself. When I left that house, I had every intention of doing just that, but something changed my mind along the way from there to where I am now. I left a mess behind, I know, but Jo is fully capable of taking care of the studio. I have full confidence she can keep it running without me. I'm not coming back. Probably not ever. I've found a second chance, somewhere to start over. I know I'm hurting you and I'm sorry, but if I come back I'll only get worse. None of us want that. Bobby, Ellen, Jo…Mary and John…they're your family. They'll take good care of you. We both know that. Blood doesn't make family, as Bobby would say. _

_It's your job now to keep Jo in line and keep her out of trouble. Make sure Ellen doesn't have to handle Bobby alone. We both know they might strangle each other one day. God knows they love each other, but you never know. I wish I could say I'd see you soon or ever. Chances are, you'll never see me again. Don't bother calling or texting me. I dumped the phone a while back. I'm not leaving a return address because you deserve to get on with your life and move on from my mistakes. You'll always be my baby brother. I'll never forget watching you grow up and become the man you are. My best memory is watching you become someone to be proud of. Who knows, maybe someday fate will let us meet again. If that happens, I'll be a different person. Hopefully, I'll finally be someone you can be proud to call your brother. Until then…I have some things to work on. _

_I want you to know that I'm safe. I have a place, a job. I somehow managed to scrounge up some friends already. They're pretty great too, I know you'd like them. One of them's named Cas. He's great. Sarcastic son of a bitch, but he keeps me on my toes. Then there's Garth. If you ask me, he's a bit odd, but whatever. He's cool. And then Charlie who's as big of a nerd as I am. She's awesome. They could never replace you guys, you know that right? Jo will always be my little sister. Bobby will be second father until I die. Ellen is my second mother. And you will always be Sammy, my little brother and my best friend. I couldn't have gotten this far without you, Sammy._

_Your words keep bouncing around inside my head. I was a coward. You were right. But I'm a coward who's trying to make something of myself and allow myself a second chance at something I couldn't have gotten back there. This isn't fair to you or to the others, I know, but it's the way it has to be. I guess I'll end this here before I made things worse than I already have. I love you, Sammy. Don't you ever forget that. I'm trying to be the man you thought I was, the man you want me to be, but more than that, I'm going to be the man I can look into the mirror and not be ashamed of anymore. Goodbye, Sammy. Take care of yourself and the others. And the studio. I hope I see you again someday._

_Love Always,_

_Dean_

_Ps: It wasn't your fault I left. I'm glad you pushed. This is what I needed and we both know it. This is a good thing, Sammy, trust me. Love you, kid._

He folded the piece of paper after re-reading it for ten minutes. He stood and left his apartment, heading down to the post office. Once inside, he asked the man behind the desk for an envelope, a stamp, and a pen. When he got the letter inside and the stamp secured in place, he neatly scribbled down Sam's address. He briefly thought about going ahead and putting a return address, but decided against it. He paid for the envelope and the stamp and slid the letter across the desk. He turned his back from the letter, took a deep breath, and finally allowed himself to fully immerse himself into his new life.

**So what do you think of Dean's decisions so far?**


	3. Nerd Time

**Disclaimer: I do not own SPN or the song lyrics at the beginning of the chapter. That would be Eric Kripke and Demi Levato. **

**Note: Sorry for the delay in an update. I was camping all weekend and away from civilization. There was no service where I was at and I didn't have my laptop. The only technology I had was my phone to use as a watch and that's it. Hah! But here it is. Kind of short...but. I wanted to get it up. Hope you like!**

**Chapter 3**

_Skies are crying, I am watching  
Catching tear drops in my hands  
Only silence as it's ending  
Like we never had a chance  
Do you have to make me feel like  
There's nothing left of me?_

Dean sighed and lowered his head. He couldn't get past that verse. He'd been working on it every chance he got, but no cigar.

He'd been in Cedaredge for thirty-five days. It'd been twenty-six since he sent that letter to his little brother. He'd half expected Sam to threaten the post office or find some way to find him then come busting down his door. That hadn't happened. His new phone only rang when Cas or Charlie called him. The only letters he received were bills or advertisements.

A knock came from his door. Dean stared at it for a long moment, trying to remember if he was expecting company or not. Finally, he pushed to his feet and answered the door.

"Cas! What are you doing here?"

Cas quirked an eyebrow. "We're supposed to watch a movie, remember? Charlie is on her way with pizza."

Realization sank in. They'd made plans a few days ago to get together and start the Harry Potter series since Cas had never seen them.

"Right. Sorry, I got caught up in some stuff. It completely slipped my mind. Come on in, man."

Cas chuckled as he shut the door behind him. "You mean you got caught up in a song. What were you playing, anyway?"

Dean stopped mid-step and glanced at the piano. He gave enough hesitation to spark Cas's curiosity.

"You know, Dean…you don't have to tell me."

Dean shook his head and took a breath. "It's a song I've been working on for…a couple of months. I can't get the lyrics right. I've had the melody all along, but…none of the words I think of seem to fit."

Cas watched his body language, seeing the tension between his shoulders. "I'm sure the words will come to you. You just have to give it some time. Don't push so hard and maybe they'll come to you."

Dean turned towards him and studied him. "You've never asked me about my past. Why not?"

Cas tilted his head to the side. "Where is this coming from?"

"Just answer the question, Cas."

He shrugged. "It's your past and you've decided to leave it behind. What place do I have to ask you to bring it up when you clearly want to forget it?"

Dean swallowed. "I don't want to forget it, not all of it. I have family that I never want to forget, but I'm not ready to talk about it."

Cas smiled softly at him. "You don't need to talk about it, Dean, if you do not want to. It is up to you."

Dean nodded. "I know. I want to, but…just not yet. Give me some time and I'll tell you."

"Okay. I'll be here when you're ready."

Before Dean could answer, the door swung open and Charlie walked in. "Come on, bitches! Let's get this thing rollin'! I've been craving some Weasley action for days!"

Dean chuckled, "I'll put the movie in. Cas, grab us some beers and we'll get the party started."

**SPN**

Sam ran his hands through his hair. He couldn't bring himself to blame Dean for his decision one bit. If he'd been in the same position, he knew he would have done the exact same way. The knowledge that his brother was alive and okay helped him through not being able to see or talk to him.

He'd given some serious thought into tracking him down. He'd even gotten the number for a private investigator, but he figured if Dean wanted to be found, he would let him know where he was. It wasn't his place to intrude on Dean's privacy or defy his wishes.

Sam knew that Dean's choices were what was best for him. If Dean came back just because this is where he was from, things might never pick back up. He might get stuck in that slump. Sam wanted what was best for Dean, even if that was possibly never seeing him or talking to him again. As long as his brother was safe, alive, and happy…that's all that mattered to him.

His entire life, Dean did nothing but look after everyone else in his life except himself. He had a successful business, but would drop everything to help someone, no matter the consequences. He had done everything under the sun for Sam. He had always been there for his little brother. He'd taken care of their drunken father when no one else wanted to. He had stood right next to their mother to help her through the years of dealing with John. He'd stayed close by his entire life to make sure he didn't hurt her. Dean had taken all the abuse while they were growing up.

Sam couldn't remember how many times Dean had stepped in between the two of them and stopped something from happening. All the times Sam and John would fight, Dean would be right there to play mediator and keep things under control the best he could.

Dean had scars from their childhood that nothing could cover or make better. Sam didn't want to even think about how he'd acquired them. Of course, he knew, but he had never witnessed it. Dean had never let him. He'd tell him to go hide in the closet or under the bed. Sometimes Sam would try to peak and see what was happening, but he could never make out the movements in the dark.

One night he had tried to talk to Dean about it, but Dean would always tell him not to worry about it and that everything would be okay. He knew that everything would be okay because Dean always protected him from everything. Their father never laid a hand on him thanks to Dean.

Sam sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He'd just read Dean's letter for what had to have been the hundredth time. It was the last thing he had from his brother. He missed him more than anything and just wished he could talk to him.

Things weren't going so well without him there. His girlfriend, Jess, had broken up with him because he just wasn't the same anymore apparently. She had said it was a long time coming. He hadn't spoken to his parents in months. He wasn't sure how they could keep the house and the studio. The studio brought in a good bit of money, but it wasn't bringing in nearly as much as it did when Dean had been running it. People just wanted Dean. Without him being there, a lot of people went somewhere else to get their albums recorded and there just wasn't anything they could do about it. Sam was worried that they might have to see Dean's house soon if things didn't pick up. He'd even picked up some extra hours to try and cover their losses, but it wasn't making enough of a difference. He'd even decided this would be his last semester. There just wasn't enough money to keep up tuition.

Every night, he looked at a picture on his nightstand of himself and Dean. Sometimes he would even talk to him, tell him about his day, tell him his problems or worries. It made him feel a little better to get things off his chest. He just wished his brother could be there in person to feel even better. Maybe someday that could happen again.

**SPN**

Dean shook his head. "No, Harry freed Dobby by taking off his sock and then tricking Malfoy into giving it to him."

Cas tilted his head to the side. "But I do not understand. It was Harry's sock. How could that free him if it wasn't Malfoy's?"

"Because it was in the book that Malfoy gave Dobby. The book was in Malfoy's possession meaning the sock was too; therefore, when Dobby was given the book…he was also given the sock. When house elves are given clothes by their masters, they're set free and no longer slaves."

Cas blew out a breath. "Why is this so confusing?"

Charlie snorted, shaking her head and taking a big bite of her ice cream. "It's not confusing. You're just not paying enough attention."

Dean nodded, "You need to loosen up a bit. Allow your imagination to just roll with what they're saying and doing. Remember, this is fantasy where anything could happen."

Cas rolled his eyes. "I know that, Dean. I do not believe people run around with sticks and cursing people."

Charlie's eyes widened. "You mean, you don't?"

Dean couldn't help the bubble of laughter that erupted from his throat. "When I was younger, I'd chase my little brother around the back yard with a stick and pretend to turn him into a toad. One time I made him believe that I'd actually managed to turn him invisible. That was the greatest."

Charlie looked up from her bowl. "You have a brother?"

Dean tensed. He hadn't meant to let it slip about Sam, but he'd been having a good time and not thinking about anything. He swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, uh, I do. His name's Sam. He's the best. He's going to Stanford to become a lawyer. I've been looking out for that kid since he was born."

Cas watched Dean carefully. He saw that sadness in his eyes and also the pride. "How old is he?"

"Twenty-two. He's five years younger than me. He's a great kid."

He took a pull from his beer, thinking about his little brother. He really missed him. Not a day had gone by while he'd been there where he didn't think about him and wish he could talk to him.

Of course, if he'd just get over his stubbornness, he could talk to him. All he had to do was pick up the phone or get in his car, maybe send another letter, but with a return address this time. He'd definitely considered it, but he needed to be on his own this time. He needed to think about himself. He knew he could do that and still communicate with his brother, but he needed to get his mind in the right spot before he attempted to back down that road again.

Charlie clicked her tongue and cleared her throat. "Well! Who's up for the third movie? We can order another pizza or something."

Dean nodded, bringing his mind back to the present. "Yeah, that sounds great to me."

Cas nodded as well. "I will order the pizza. What do we want?"

**SPN**

Jo rubbed her eyes. It had been a very long week and all she wanted to do was go home and go to bed, but she still had a few hours left before she could leave the studio. She was currently working on the books and trying to figure out how they were going to make it to next month.

She logged into the account set up for the studio's finances and did a double take. There was an extra four hundred dollars sitting in the account that hadn't been there before. It had come from an anonymous source.

She narrowed her eyes at the screen and picked up her cell phone. She dialed the number for the bank to see who had deposited the money into the account. The only answer she received from them was that it had come from a bank in Colorado, but that's all they could tell her. There was no name on the bank statement to give to her.

After hanging up the phone, she dialed Sam's number. It rang a couple of times before he finally answered. "Hey, Jo. What's up?"

"Hey…so, I'm pretty sure Dean is Colorado."

There was a long moment of silence as the information sank in. "How do you know that?"

"I was going over the finances for the studio when a chunk of money landed in the account from an anonymous source. I called the bank and all they could tell me was that it had come from a bank in Colorado. There wasn't a name on the statement, but…who else would deposit four hundred dollars into the studio's bank account?"

"Four hundred dollars?! Is that enough to keep it going?"

"Yeah, it's definitely enough to squeeze by. I mean, we won't be throwing any parties, but we'll be able to keep her open for at least another month or so."

"Wow. I guess it shouldn't surprise me that he's depositing money. The studio is his baby. Well, his _other_ baby besides the impala. Did they say where in Colorado?"

Jo shook her head, staring at the screen of her laptop. "No. All they gave me was the state. It's not like it matters though, right? I mean, Dean doesn't want to be found yet. And we both know that he won't be found until he wants it. At least we know that he's alive, he's obviously attempting to be happy, he's made friends…and he's got a good enough job to be able to afford to deposit that much into the account. It sounds like he's doing good for himself, but that doesn't exactly surprise me. That's what he's good at. Well, that and taking care of everyone around him."

There was a sigh on the other end of the line. "Yeah, you're right. I just wish that he'd get past this stage of whatever he's going through and get ahold of us. By that, I mean more than just a letter with no return address. I miss him, you know? I just want my brother back."

Jo smiled softly, looking at the picture on the desk of the three of them from when they were younger. "Yeah, I know what you mean. I want him back too. He'll be back though. It's Dean. He can't stay away from us forever. It's not in his blood. He misses us and he'll be back eventually. We just have to keep everything going until he does."

"Yeah. I just have to keep telling myself that. Well, hey, I need to let you go. I'm about to walk into class. I'll talk to you later. Thanks for let me know."

"Of course, Sam. I'll see you tonight at Mom's for supper. You're still coming, right?"

"Yeah, I'll be there. I'll see you then. Bye, Jo."

The line went dead and Jo tucked her phone back into her pocket. She chuckled despite herself. Even from wherever the hell Dean was, he was still taking care of them.

**So what did you think of Dean helping them with the studio when they don't even know where he is?**


	4. Memory Lane

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. Yeah, I'm broken up about it too.**

**Note: Okay! Here is the next chapter. I'm trying to make them longer, add in more information. From here on out, I'm going to try to make it more excited and more...interesting? I've been trying to show both sides of the coin. I'll throw in some Ellen and Bobby soon, maybe in the next chapter. Well, enjoy!**

**Chapter 4**

Cas rolled his eyes. "No, I think my favorite was the second movie."

Dean stared at him long and hard. "You've got to be kidding me. How can you pass up the last movie? Did you not watch it? Didn't you see the way he just gave up the Elder wand and tossed it over the bridge? Or how he pretended to be dead to give him that edge to finally beat Voldemort once and for all?"

"Yes, Dean, I saw the movie the same time you did, but it wasn't nearly as good as when Harry beat Tom Riddle by stabbing the diary with the basilisk fang or when he fought it off using the sword. It was very heroic."

"Yeah! And so was fighting Voldemort in person! He chased that bastard down. He even went back and saved Draco when he easily could have just left him there to die after everything Draco did to him over the years."

Cas shook his head. "He could not have left him there. That is not in Harry's character. He could not have turned his back like that. The same way that he saved Dudley from that dementor attack in the fifth movie. He would never just leave him there to die. Or how about when he warned Cedric about the dragons in the fourth movie. Cedric was fierce competition and yet he helped him out. He also told him to take the cup and go, but they both ended up taking it. What do you have to say about that?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "That's my whole point! Of course, he didn't leave him behind. That's what I'm trying to say. He's heroic as fuck."

Cas chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. They had been arguing for the past hour over the movie series they had recently finished. They had been watching the movies on and off for the past two weeks when they could get the time. Both men had been busy with work, but they would get together every chance they got. A few times Charlie had joined them, but she was busy with her own life as well.

They were sitting at the kitchen table in Dean's apartment. It was their usual hangout spot besides the bar or Cas's apartment. Occasionally, they'd go to a diner or to their favorite pizza place, but they usually just ordered to go.

Dean stared down into his bottle, sobering up from their debate. He'd been thinking long and hard about what he was about to do. He still wasn't sure if he was ready, but Cas had a right to know; especially if things were going to go the direction he wanted them to go at some point.

"Cas, I've been thinking…"

Cas looked up from checking his phone. He'd received a message from Charlie asking if they wanted to grab a bite to eat. "Thinking about what, Dean?"

Dean started rolling the bottle between his fingers. "I asked you two weeks ago why you don't ask me about my past. You said it's not your place to bring it up."

Cas had a feeling he knew where this was going. "Dean…you don't have to say anything. I understand the need for wanting to keep things in the past. I would never hold that against you."

Dean shook his head. "I need to…I don't want to keep everything in the past. There are a lot of things that I don't want to forget and I feel like…if I don't tell someone…I will forget. I'm not ready to tell you why I left, but…I can at least start at the beginning."

Cas reached forward and rested his hand on top of Dean's free one. He squeezed it, trying to show him his support. "If you're ready, Dean…then I'm here to listen."

Dean finally looked up from his bottle and met blue on green. "You sure, Cas? It's not exactly a fairytale."

Cas smiled softly at him. "I'm sure, Dean. I'm all yours."

A thought passed quickly through Dean's mind about wishing that were true in more cases than one, but he let it go so he could start his story.

"Okay. Well…I guess I'll start with when I was a kid. My parents had me and everything was great. About five years later, they had my little brother Sammy. I was thrilled to have a little brother. I could teach him stuff, you know? How to be a big kid, or whatever. For a while, it was awesome. Mom and Dad seemed just as happy as I was. And then my Dad started drinking more than he usually did. First it was just beer, lots of beer. Then he started adding whiskey to the mix. When Sammy was three…he started hitting my mom. I didn't see it at first. I was only a kid. They didn't want me to see that. It wasn't long until he just didn't care anymore if we saw it. The first time it happened in front of me, I tried to stop it and he threw me against a wall, knocking me out. He figured that would stop me from interfering and he was wrong. Every time I saw it, I stepped in between them. It wasn't long before I was strong enough to take most of it away from her. I made her take Sammy into the other room and protect him.

After a couple of months, she started leaving the house by the time he'd be drunk and pissed enough to start up his routine. She left Sammy and I to fend for ourselves every night. I had a timer set on my watch that would go off ten minutes before he usually started in on it, so I'd hide Sammy away in his closet or under his bed, anywhere I could find where he could fit. I made him promise me not to watch what happened. As far as I know, he never did. For years I saved him from everything my father was. I raised that kid when my parents were too incompetent. I could never be more proud of that kid than I am. Our mom…she ignored the bruises. She was free from getting beat, so she ignored it. When I moved out of the house, I took Sammy with me. There was no way I was leaving him behind to take my place. By the time he was old enough to understand what was happening, and then brave enough to stand up to the old man…it got harder to protect him. He was always starting fights with the man. Always questioning, always provoking. I had to stand in between those two almost every day. They were two strong personalities that just kept clashing. I know Sammy was trying to protect me, but…when I was old enough, I started working out, getting stronger. I did everything I could to gain muscle. It took a little while, but I got strong enough to fight back and make a dent. It'd only make him angrier, but I kept fighting."

He took a breath and a sip of beer. Cas squeezed his hand again. "Your mom just abandoned you both for years? Just came back when it was safe?"

Dean nodded, "Yeah. I can't say I exactly blame her. I mean…the man was beating her, but..."

"She abandoned her children. She left them to be beaten by a drunk. That's not right."

He shook his head. "No, it's not. I can't even begin to imagine what was going through her head to make her do that, but…when I moved out and took Sammy with me…that left no one to protect her from him. I tried to feel bad for just leaving her there with him, but I couldn't bring myself to. That probably makes me a horrible person, but I don't really care."

Cas shook his head, tightening his grip on Dean's hand. "That doesn't make you a horrible person, Dean. Not to me. It makes you someone who was forced to survive something they should never been near. You were protecting your little brother. You have every right to feel whatever way you want towards your mother. You will never see judgment about that from me."

There was a sadness in Dean's eyes that Cas never wanted to see again. He took his other hand and put it over the hand that was wrapped around his beer bottle. When they connected, Dean let go of the bottle and let Cas hold his hand, giving him the comfort and support he needed.

"What happened next, Dean?"

Dean took a deep breath, bringing up his memories from all those years ago. "I found an apartment for the two of us. I kept in touch with my mom. I think mainly to know if she was still alive or not. I went over there from time to time, see if his drinking had let up at all. It took a couple of years, but Sammy came around eventually. He started protecting mom when we were there, not leaving her side for most of the visit. I never asked why he did, but he didn't think he'd tell me anyway, so I left it alone. I opened up a recording studio while he was in high school. We needed an income, so it was on me to provide it. I've always loved music. That's how I relieve stress. I write it, sing it, play it. My mother taught back before my father became a drunk. She taught me how to play the piano, how to sing. She would sing to me every night. So, when I got out of there, it just seemed like the right direction to go. People came from across the country to work with me. It brought in a lot of money, enough to buy a house, keep the business going, keep us alive, pay for part of his tuition when he went to college. After he graduated from high school, he went to Stanford, pre-law. He's the smartest kid I know."

Cas nodded, understanding why Dean had bought the piano. "That's why were you playing that song a couple of weeks ago. Is that your own?"

Dean smiled faintly. "Yeah. I've been working on it for a few months now. Ever since…I haven't been able to finish it. Not yet, but I will."

Cas wet his lips, searching for the right words. "Okay. What happened next? Does Sam have anyone besides you?"

Dean's smile widened, his mind going back to his family. "Yeah. He has a girlfriend. Her name's Jess. She's a real sweetheart. They've been together for a couple of years now. There's Ellen and Bobby who have been our second parents for most of our lives. They helped keep us alive when our parents failed to. They were always someone we could turn to. They've always been there for both of us. And their daughter, Jo…she's my little sister. I love her as much as I love Sammy. I would do anything for any one of them. They can take care of Sammy. They'll take care of him now that I'm not there."

"Have you spoken to him since you left? Does he know where you are?"

Dean swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat at the question. "About a week after I got here…I sent him a letter. I didn't tell him where I am. I…I can't go back there, Cas. Not after everything that's happened. If I go back,…I'll just fall apart all over again. Ever since I got here, I've been me again. I can actually function again. I miss them like crazy, I can't stop thinking about them, but…I told him why I can't go back. He'll understand. I told him I'm okay, that I have a place, a job, friends. I've been depositing money into the account for the studio so they don't have to do it alone. Jo's in charge of it, so it'll be fine."

"Dean…maybe you should think about staying in contact with him. You don't have to go back, but…it'll give you a peace in mind to be able to know if he's okay at least."

Dean cleared his throat, trying to get rid of that lump. "I've thought about it. He had nothing to do with why I left. That was…That was something else. I haven't because I know he'll either track me down and try to drag me back home or he'll beg me to come back and I just can't do that."

They were silent for a few minutes. They were both lost in their minds, going over the information that had been shared. Cas bit his lip, wondering if he should even ask.

"You were going to end your life that night."

Dean's head snapped up and his eyes locked with Cas's. "What?"

"That night you came into the bar. You were going to end your life, weren't you?"

Dean stayed silent. He wasn't sure what to say or how Cas could possibly know that.

"It was in your eyes. Just by looking at you, I could tell."

A light bulb clicked on in his mind. "That look that flashed through your eyes. I couldn't tell at the time what it had been, but…that's why you were talking to me. You…You saved my life, Cas."

Cas shook his head. "No, I only put a thought into your mind about a second chance you could have. I helped you realize there could be one. I didn't do anything, but say a couple of words."

Dean shook his head. "No, Cas…you did a lot more than that. What you said to me…you changed my mind. It took some time for the thought to completely go away, but…you changed my life that night. I wouldn't be alive right now if it hadn't been for you."

They searched each other's eyes. They were looking for some kind of sign, some kind of hint as to what the other was thinking or wanted. Finally, Dean took a chance. He shifted his weight from his ass to his thighs as he pushed himself up from his chair and leaned towards Cas. He did it slowly, giving Cas plenty of time to turn away, but he never did. Their lips met and neither wanted them to part.

**SPN**

Sam rolled his eyes. "I do not need to get out there, Jo. I'm fine."

Jo huffed. "That's what Dean said too and now look where he is. He's AWOL after declaring that he was fine and didn't need to get out of the house. So…what was that you said again? I didn't quite hear you."

Sam sighed, relenting. "Fine. I'll go for a drink. But only one! Then I'm coming back home."

Jo squealed. "Yay! You won't regret it. We're going to have fun, Sam! It's about damn time we had some fun! It's been, what? Two months since he left and then you add a couple of weeks to that when he was losing his mind. So…we haven't had any fun in two and a half months, Sam! That's insane! You know for a damn fact that Dean would be royally pissed if he knew that you were sitting around moping instead of living your life and enjoying it. He has always wanted nothing but the best for you and you know that."

"Yeah, well, how is this best for me, Jo?! I never asked for any of this! All I want is my brother back!"

Jo softened, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Hey…Dean's entire life he has been doing nothing but protecting you and your mom. Then he was protecting the two of us, protecting Lisa, Ellen, Bobby. All he ever did was look out for all of us. He never did anything for himself other than start up that studio. His entire life has been spent looking out for others before himself. I think he's entitled to do something for himself, don't you think? I mean, yeah, it royally sucks, but…I read that letter too. If this is what he thinks is best for him, then we need to accept that. He accepted our decisions. He's had our backs for as long as either of us have known him. Now it's time for us to have his."

Sam looked deep into her eyes and saw just how determined she was to get through to him. He also saw just how true her words were. "You're right, Jo. I'm sorry. I've just never been more than a phone call away from him my entire life. I don't know how…"

Jo wrapped her arms around him. "I know, Sam. I know. It sucks. It's hard on all of us, but we're all here for each other. This is when we band together and take care of each other. Mom and Dad invited us over for supper tomorrow. We're going and we're going to be okay, okay?"

Sam nodded. "Okay."

"Good. Life without Dean might be hard, but it's not impossible. And I'm going to hell for saying that, but that's part of why he's staying away. He knows you and the rest of us will be okay without him. He knows it's time to do something for himself for once, something that's in his best interest. And you know Dean as good as I do. We both know that he won't be able to stay away for the rest of his life. If it hasn't happened already, he's going to get excited about something, happy about something, and he's going to turn around to go talk to you about it and you're not going to be there. He's going to know that that was by his actions and he's going to want nothing more than to come back or contact you somehow. And if the first time isn't enough, it'll happen enough times to give him the strength to pick up the phone, write another letter, or even get in the car. You're his little brother, Sam. I'm his little sister. Mom and Dad are his parents. We'll all see him again."

Sam looked at her. "How do you know that? How can you be so sure? We never thought Dean would leave like that."

She nodded. "Yeah, that's true, but…he left to kill himself, but what he did instead was find a second chance. He's still alive. I'm sure because I know Dean. I just know he's not gone from our lives for good. Trust me."

"I always do."

She smiled at him. "Good! If you ever stop, I'll beat you up."

Sam snorted and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, go ahead and try, Shorty."

**So, what did you guys think? The Destiel has arrived! I have been sooo looking forward to when I can throw that in. Also, we get some backstory on Dean! We'll get the whole story soon. ^.^ More fluff to come! Trust me, I'm a fluff addict. Until next time!**


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